The Tapping
by stylhopeful
Summary: Draco is annoyed. He can't get to sleep, and he blames it all on Hermione. All because that little habit, which just happened to annoy the life out of him. To what extent would he go for in order to get some sleep? Dramione. One-shot.


** I wrote another one, oh yes I did. And on Valentine's Day too. It has nothing to do with Valentine's Day. Yes, _the amazing logic of my brain_. I don't even know why I wrote this in the first place, on Valentines day, ****well at least it has romance**. But yeah, as it being very rainy and cold and lonely and not very lovey-dovey, I wrote this at like 1am. _My life is rollercoaster_, don't you think. But it's kinda okay, -ish. Probably. _I'm not sure_. Well, I hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer: Turns out my polyjoice potion didn't work, I'm stuck as me instead of J.K Ro****wling**. So no, I do not own any of the characters. 

Draco was annoyed; _very_ annoyed. Nope, that was the understatement of the century. What he really felt was ripping someone's guts out, preferably Professor Slughorn, strangle them with it then stuff it down their throat.

Proceeded by dragging them across and field of cacti and throw off a cliff, _into hell_, with Lego bricks cushioning their fall. No, even he thought _that_ was an understatement, _close enough though_.

He hadn't even chose to be there, working with _her. _But _no_, Professor Slughorn just had to sort them into a seating plan. Then continue to torture them by pairing them up with the person sitting beside them. And of course it was _her_. Just the person he had been trying to avoid; as well as just about everyone else. But she was the worst, and for one reason solely, she was too… _happy, _he shivered at the word, too cheerful, like a ray of sunshine. And, really, it made him _sick_.

This whole situation could've been avoided so simply; Draco having not to come to Hogwarts that year. Yet he had been forced by his mother, stating that it would be better than to be locked up in his family's mansion throughout the whole year. And he hadn't even agreed to her. She, Draco's mother, herself, had packed his belongings preparing for him to go Hogwarts. Only at last minute notice had Draco been informed off his mother plans. He remembered objecting, nearly _begging_, his mother to let him stay. But _dammit_, his mother knew him well. Narcissa had looked him in the eye, and begged him to leave, as his fathers' trial had been coming up; that she didn't want Draco to see her crying and in pain. She didn't want him to see her _broken_, cracked open like an empty shell, and _vulnerable_. Because no mother wanted her son to see herself such a state, it would be too much pain for the child. Because seeing someone who had _cared_ so much about him, _who had sacrificed so much for him_, would surely break him, Draco knew. And Narcissa had won that argument, with a triumphant smirk on her face as she hugged his son goodbye.

Draco cursed himself for being too soft.

And due to his, _no_ his mother's he corrected, actions, he had ended up here. In the library, _at what time_? 11 o'clock or something like that (he was too tired to check), sitting beside the female third of the golden trio working on their project. _Just _the place he wanted to be.

He could hear his bed calling him, telling Draco to come to him. That his bed missed him, and it was lonely. _If only_, he thought to himself.

But he was awake, unfortunately, and annoyed. _Very annoyed._

For the millionth time it seemed, Draco cursed Professor Slughorn.

He seemed to be doing that quite often.

And the source of his irritation was to his left. His partner: _Hermione Granger_. But _Merlin_, it was way past curfew, yet she still had the book open between them and reading through it. Who knew Granger was such a badass; staying up after curfew, just to study. Draco had given up, long ago. He would've left then, but he didn't feel as if it was proper to leave her alone. The two were quite important throughout the school, as having the title of Head Boy and Girl. He didn't want her to get caught breaking the rules.

But no, it wasn't that Hermione was making him stay up so she could study. No, Hermione hadn't forced him to do so, and it wasn't that it would annoy him. He could've fell asleep and have her wake him up before she would leave. So no, he wasn't complaining that he couldn't go to bed, he was complaining that he couldn't go to _sleep_. And _yes_, it was all Grangers' fault.

You see, Granger had this small habit; small, but _incredibly_ annoying, habit. And it annoyed the living daylight out of Draco. So much that had to restrain himself from chopping her into pieces so she would finally stop, _and what a shame that would be_, he thought. It took all of his will power to stay still, but he managed. He was patient, which was for sure. Malfoys didn't blow up from anger and impatience, but this habit, it was just so consistent and so... _argh_, not even he could deal with it. And that little habit, was tapping her fingers.

If only he could burn the fingers off and throw the ashes into a volcano. He sighed_, if only_.

The habit was meagre, no doubt about that. And the sound often went unheard by most people. But they were in the library, after dark, only the two of them. The sound seemed to echo around the room, bouncing off each shelf, and wall, and book, intensifying the sound; making it louder, and just more _annoying, _if that was possible that is. But Granger was so soaked into the book, she was oblivious to what she was doing, and _obviously_ didn't realise his anger. He was even more pale than usual, if that was possible, and looked ready to pull his hair off, and she didn't _bloody_ notice.

The tapping was all he could hear. He hated it. It was stopping him from sleeping, _like honestly_, why would anyone be so cruel to do that; to stop someone from sleeping, ugh. _Sleep_, he yearned for it so bad. The only way he could get it was if he stopped the tapping. But he was too tired to do that. He stifled a yawn, and buried his head into his arms resting on the table. He tried his best to muffle to tapping, he really did. But it seemed to become even louder when he leaned his head against the table. Instantly, Draco's head shot up, and he scowled.

He stared, no, _glared, _at Hermione's fingers tapping against the table, _only if looks could kill_. Her long slim fingers had been tapping for so long; ever since they had started studying really. At first he didn't mind, they were drowned out by the excited chatter of the first years when the library had been full. But now, they were tapping so rapidly and consistently and it was so _loud_, with not even one mistake dammit. She didn't even seem aware that she was doing it; because it was a _habit. A bloody annoying one at that too, _he thought to himself.

_Merlin_, how did Weasel and Potty deal with her?

Draco gritted his teeth and ran his hand through his hair.

It had been going on for hours now, and Draco couldn't take it any longer. In a flash, his left hand was over hers, fingers interlocked and pressing against each other's in an attempt to stop it. Hermione's head shot up at the sudden movement, and then she had seemed to realize what she had been doing the whole time. She blushed slightly, than looked down. "Sorry," Draco heard her murmur. Then her eyes had caught on his hand, or _their_ hands really, and they widened slightly, and she blushed even redder. Draco hadn't noticed her tinted cheeks, as well as the fact she hadn't even removed her hand from his.

"Wake me up when you're done," he muttered yawning slightly. Hermione nodded slightly, she watched as he buried his head into his right arm resting on the table. He didn't realise it, but he had slipped his hand around hers, slipping his fingers around her palm. He had felt some kind of warmth run through him, and it felt so… good? He didn't know how to describe it. Maybe it was just because he was sleepy, that he was feeling this way, it couldn't be because he was holding hand _with Hermione_. _Merlin_, the _logical _part of his brain hadn't even realise he was still holding her hand.

He seemed to fall asleep instantly; it was certainly much easier than it would be with the constant finger tapping. And the last thing he thought before he drifted off to land of nod, was about the way _Hermione's _hand fit into his; _perfectly_.

* * *

The next morning, Madam Pince opened up the library. She walked in, fiddling with the keys, before placing them her pocket. She approached her desk, but her eyes caught sight on a table in the corner; the people _at _the table in particular. Raising her eyebrows, she neared the table, and to her surprise, she was met with two sleeping figures resting their heads in the table. Madam Pince softly smiled as she saw the two were holding hands,_ how sweet_. She left the two students with each other, not wanting to disturb them. _Hermione and Draco_? _Who would've thought_, she mused as she walked away.

**Yes, that's it. I apologise for any mistakes and that kinda stuff. I ****was meant to put this up earlier, but someone (oh hello, dad) had closed my laptop and I lost some of my ****writing. So that delayed it. But any****way, I hoped you guys liked that, and feel free to revie****w, as I much appreciate it.**


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